Another Kind of Magic
by effluvious
Summary: Draco stumbles across Hermione by the lake one evening and she reintroduces him to another kind of magic. [No actual romance or pairing.]


_**Author's Note:** Written for prompt #2 (magical) from prompt set 50.1 at the 100quills community on LiveJournal. Reviews and constructive criticism greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading!_

_**Disclaimer:** The Potterverse, all of its inhabitants, and various situations involving the aforementioned are property of JK Rowling, et al. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made from this work of fanfiction._

"Another Kind of Magic"

Hermione sat on a westward facing bench outside Hogwarts preparing to watch the sun set over the lake. She really should not have been out on the grounds at all with dusk so quickly approaching, but she was prepared to face the dangers lurking in the evening shadows for the opportunity to experience one peaceful sunset alone. She needed a small reminder of the good in the world.

She had lost herself a bit in her thoughts and in the multitude of colours spreading across the twilight sky and so she was a bit startled to hear footsteps at her back. She reached for the wand tucked discretely into the folds of her robes, prepared to wield it against any who might mean her harm.

"Well, well, Granger. Out for a rendezvous with the Weasel? Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm pretty certain he disappeared into a broom closet with Potter a short while ago and they looked like they meant business."

Hermione's back stiffened. It was worse than she had supposed. There was no contingency of Death Eaters lurking the grounds that evening, though that might have been infinitely preferable to trading the usual insults with this particularly sharp-tongued ferret.

"Ah, Malfoy, not looking for Parkinson, I hope? Last I heard, she was planning a little tryst with half of Slytherin House," she retorted.

"I expected more originality from you. Really, don't you think that the 'Parkinson is a slut' bit is rather overdone?" he rejoined.

Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed a bit, pondering the quickest way to be rid of the pesky little rodent. He would continue baiting her as long as she satisfied him with a reaction, so the only acceptable course of action would be to ignore him. With that in mind, she again turned her attention to the slowly fading sunset.

Draco settled himself onto the bench next to her, careful not to sit too close. Malfoys did not soil their pristine skin by brushing it against Mudbloods, accidentally or otherwise. He resented her silence, resented being ignored by someone who was not his equal. He followed her gaze to the amalgamation of colors dissipating over the west.

"You didn't answer the question, Granger. What are you doing out here? Don't you know that it's not safe for helpless little Mudbloods to be out alone after dark?" he taunted.

Hermione was really in no mood for volleying insults and was additionally irritated at having her peaceful sunset disrupted by the insulting Pureblood. At this rate, the jumble of color before her would be long faded to black by the time he shut his smirking mouth.

"Will you please _shut up_? You're spoiling all the magic."

Draco looked at her confusedly as he had noticed no spell work being performed.

"What are you talking about, Mudblood? You don't even have your wand out."

"Just like you to miss what's right in front of your face, you insufferable prat. There's an entire world filled with magic that doesn't require wands, spells, or potions and you're letting every bit of it pass you right by. There's no bit of spell work that could be as pure or as beautiful as what's before you right this very second," she said, never moving her eyes from the horizon.

Malfoy studied her intently. He took note of the brilliant colors of sunset reflecting in her toffee-coloured eyes. He detected the conviction in her words and the firm set of her jaw was evidence of how passionately she felt on the subject. He should have sneered, called her a Mudblood again, and pranced off to the dungeons. Instead, he closed his mouth and turned toward the western skies.

A few moments later, the last bit of color disappeared from the sky and Hermione rose from the bench. Draco looked up at her and whispered a grudging word of thanks before they parted ways.

As much as he hated to admit it, being Muggle-born might have had its advantages. It had been years since he had appreciated any magic other than that which he studied inside Hogwarts castle each day.


End file.
